Timeless Mist

Timeless Mist

By Terisa Wilcox

Dedication

To my husband Earl, for always be
ing
there for me and help
ing
me too never give up on
my dream. You are a true knight in shin
ing
armor.

To my children, Myke and Cindy, Jessie, and Matt, for
inspir
ing
me in ways
you’ll never know.

And last but
not
least, to Jody Bear and J. I could
n't
have
gotten here
without you girls!

Chapter One

"What
ha'e
ye done with her?"
The deep voice broke into the quietness of the field she'd been enjoy
ing
.

Kristianna turned toward
that
somehow familiar
baritone. Her jaw slid south. She would
n't
have
been
surprised to hear it clunk on her chest it dropped so fast.

Stand
ing
before her, nose to nose,
was
the
biggest, blackest horse she'd ever seen, she blinked a time or two, but it did
n't
help. Still the beast
stood before her. The huge horse snorted and blew, paw
ing
the ground as it
continued to stare at her.

Kris closed her eyes and shook
her head. No way
was
this happen
ing
.
She
had
a great
imagination.
Not
a moment ago she'd gazed at the meadow now behind her, want
ing
not
h
ing
more than to lie down in
the sweet-smell
ing
field of heather, close her eyes and relish the peacefulness mov
ing
through her.

"I ask ye once again,
wench, what ha'e ye done wi' her?"

She opened her eyes and let
her eyes travel up, up and up some more to see who spoke to her. Her breath
hitched in her throat and solidified there. Her knees wobbled at the sight of
the man sitt
ing
atop his horse.
Not
on
ly
was
he more gorgeous than
any man
had
a
right to be, he
was
also
very
large
and looked none too happy at the moment.

His face, bronzed by wind and
sun, looked as familiar as his voice
had
sounded. She'd seen him before and the sight of him ripped a sigh of pleasure
from her.

"I
haven't
done anyth
ing
with anyone," she began
when his question final
ly
penetrated her brain. She shook her head, confused. This
was
not
how this
was
supposed to go. He
was
supposed to jump off his
dark horse and pledge his undy
ing
love and devotion,
not
ask about some other woman.

"Dinnae make me ask ye
again," he thundered, as without warn
ing
,
he leapt from his enormous horse, drew his sword and pointed it at her. Apparent
ly
, he
was
not
convinced of her
innocence. "Tell me what ye ha'e done wi' her and mayhap I shall let ye
live."

Her pulse began to beat
erratical
ly
at
the
very
genuine threat in his deep voice. "Look," Kris said, keep
ing
her voice as soft and
calm as she could with a
very
real,
very
sharp look
ing
broadsword pointed at her chest, "I do
n't
have
any idea who you're talk
ing
about. If you tell me who it is you're look
ing
for, maybe I can help you find her. Just
put
that
sword
away…"

Before she could finish
that
thought, the man
advanced on her, sword raised, ready to strike. Kris could
n't
help but admire the way
he moved with such an easy grace for a man so powerful and well-muscled.

Stunned when the point of the
sword actual
ly
poked her in the chest, Kris put her hands up in front of her and stumbled
backwards as the man continued to move toward her, his face a mask of anger.

With a yelp, she tripped, and
fell to her backside.

And woke up.

"Damn." She blinked
several times and rubbed her hands over her face. "Bloody hell,
not
again," she
muttered. "If I must continue to
have
dreams about this guy, ca
n't
I at least control the outcome once in a while?" Blow
ing
her hair out of her eyes
in frustration, she sighed and raised her eyes upward. No divine answer seemed
to be com
ing
from
that
quarter.

More awake now, she looked around
her darkened bedroom, grumbled a bit as she untangled herself from the blankets,
and tossed them back on the bed. With a groan, she grabbed the footboard at the
end of her four-poster bed and hauled herself up from where she'd landed on the
floor.

"Fine, if I ca
n't
control the outcome of
that
stupid dream, do you
think it would be too much to ask
that
I at least
not
fall
out of bed e
very
s
ing
le freakin' time?"

With more irritated mutter
ing
s, she plopped down on
the edge of the bed and peered at her alarm clock. Four A.M. and she
was
wide-awake.

Again.

No sense in even try
ing
to get back to sleep
now, she'd
have
to be
up in an hour or so anyway.

She pushed her feet into her
favorite fuzzy slippers, stood, grabbed her robe from the end of the bed, and
made her way to the kitchen. Flipp
ing
the switch for the lights, then the one to start the coffee brew
ing
, she cast a sleepy
glance at the refrigerator and could
n't
stop the wide grin and giddy giggle.

At least today there
was
good reason for her
excitement and inability to get back to sleep. On the fridge, two magnets held in
place the reason for her exhilaration -one round-trip airplane ticket to
Scotland.

She began to bounce on her heels
in anticipation. Her entire art-history class
was
due to f
ly
out of
Logan Airport in Boston in just a few short hours. She'd gotten her passport,
paid off all her credit cards and been packed for
almost
two weeks now. The on
ly
th
ing
left to do
was
wait for Hailey to pick her up, get to the airport, and board the plane.

The coffee maker beeped, signal
ing
it
was
final
ly
ready. She poured her
coff
ee into her favorite mug, added the requisite amounts
of cream and sugar, and took a deep breath, inhal
ing
the wonderful aroma before tak
ing
a large swallow. She stood there a moment, savor
ing
the caffeine as it began to do its wonderful work.

It must be anticipation about the
trip
that
inspired
these weird dreams, she decided, as she sipped more coffee. Although in the
back of her mind a nagg
ing
suspicion said there
was
far more to it than
that
,
she chose to ignore it. Maybe it
was
just a lack of junk food. She'd been on a strict diet for over a month, try
ing
to lose a few extra
pounds before her trip. Who knew what kind of detrimental effects a lack of
chocolate could br
ing
on a girl?

Kris giggled at herself and
continued to sip her coffee. Push
ing
those thoughts aside, she moved to her kitchen table and stared at the
almost
finished sketch with
a critical eye. She'd
almost
captured him, but there
was
still someth
ing
miss
ing
she just could
n't
quite
put her f
ing
er
on. It
was
a sketch
that
portrayed the man who
insisted on invad
ing
her dreams near
ly
e
very
night for the past few
weeks.

Unable to resist, she sat down at
the table, picked up her pencil and began to work. She'd just do a bit on it
before she got dressed and waited for Hailey.

*          *          *

Kristianna Campbell stood in the
middle of the empty hallway, in a MacGregor castle in Scotland, frozen to the
floor, her knees ready to buckle from the force of the shock
that
reverberated through
her. This
was
not
possible. She put her
hand on the wall to steady herself and glanced behind her. She needed to sit
down, but there
were
no chairs. On
ly
that
paint
ing
occupied the dim
ly
lit hallway.

That
paint
ing
. She
swallowed, unable to keep her eyes from stray
ing
back to the man who stared down at her. The man from her dreams.
Not
on
ly
that
, but the paint
ing
itself looked familiar as well. It
was
almost
exact
ly
the same as the sketch she'd been work
ing
on. The one in her suitcase.

When she'd arrived in Scotland
yesterday with her classmates, and realized they'd be stay
ing
in a castle owned by the
MacGregor's, she'd been ecstatic. True, she
was
a Campbell, but through her adoptive grandparents on her
màthair
's side, she
considered herself a MacGregor as well. Maybe even more so consider
ing
she'd lived more with her
grandparents than her parents.

She refocused her attention on
the man in the portrait.

Sunlight from the nearby window
lit his face. His shoulder length hair glinted with blue highlights, a s
had
e darker than the crisp
hair visible at the open
ing
of his white shirt.

Compelled, she leaned forward,
her hand extended. Her f
ing
ers
itched to touch him. His vibrant blue eyes locked with hers. She moved nearer. His
full mustache did
not
h
ing
to hide the firm mouth
that
twitched in a mock
ing
, self-confident smirk,
almost
dar
ing
her to move closer.

She dared.

She reached to touch the silver
brooch fastened to the red and green MacGregor plaid draped careless
ly
over his shoulder. It
was
someth
ing
safe,
not
real
like
the rest of him.

Real?

Kris snatched her hand away. She
looked around, fearful someone
had
seen her. The carpeted hallway
was
still empty. Why then did she
have
the sensation she
wasn't
alone,
that
someone
watched her?

She shook her head. What a vivid
imagination. There
was
nobody about and the paint
ing
was
just an inanimate
object,
not
h
ing
more. The déjà vu
that
was
hed over her however
was
hard to ignore.

With a deep breath to calm her
shak
ing
nerves, she
looked up once more, find
ing
it impossible
not
to
stare at the man. Tall, with broad shoulders, he stood with legs braced slight
ly
apart. His muscled arms
crossed over his chest portrayed self-assurance in e
very
line of his powerful frame.

Kris closed her eyes and
shivered.

"Is e
very
th
ing
all right, Miss Campbell?"

Kris jumped and whirled around
with a squeak. Brian MacGregor, the proprietor of MacGregor Castle, stood
beside her a look of concern in his deep blue eyes. A sweet, older man of about
sixty or so, he reminded her of St. Nick from
'T
was
The Night Before
Christmas
with his white beard and moustache and slight
ly
rounded figure. She
offered him a smile, realiz
ing
it came out a bit on the shaky side.

"I did
n't
mean to startle
you," he chuckled.

"It's okay," she waved
a dismissive hand at him. "I guess I
was
lost in my thoughts and did
n't
hear you. And please, call me Kris." E
very
time someone called her Miss Campbell, it on
ly
reminded her of how close she
had
been to becom
ing
a
real MacGregor. She still would
n't
mind be
ing
a
MacGregor, but
not
at
the expense of her dignity. She could
n't
decide if she
was
more
happy or relieved
that
she
hadn't
followed
through with her plans to marry David.

Kris shook her head the moment
she realized her mind
was
wander
ing
into the
forbidden zone again. She
was
here to study and
have
fun,
not
to think
about her past mistakes. Besides, there
were
more important th
ing
s
to ponder. Such as
that
man star
ing
at her
from the portrait behind her.